


Of Angels and Lies

by deathstorm



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Murder, Stalker, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 14:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathstorm/pseuds/deathstorm
Summary: It's my turn to tell my side of the story. And you are going to listen.





	Of Angels and Lies

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a short story, or at least I hope so!

 As long as I can remember, Daryl Dixon has always claimed to hate Atlanta. Some might consider it beautiful, in a certain way, but this wasn’t the case. Atlanta was nothing more than a place where all he could feel was desperation, hurt, pain from all the memories.

 What a weirdo, right?

 He was a disturbed kid. Ill. Haunted by it’s past, or whatever poetic shit you want to call it. His back was covered in scars, and so were his wrists. Not to mention you could feel his ribs just by hugging him. He wasn’t exactly strong, or stunning in that matter.

 So I suppose you want to know why I did it.

 You want to know why I murdered Daryl Dixon.

 You want to know why his body lays lifeless in front of me.

 Why my fingers are covered in messy, sticky blood.

 His blood.

 Well, shall we?

* * *

 

 Growing up everyone knew about the Dixons. Not because they threw barbecues every other weekend or so, and neither were they known for helping out at the homeless shelter.

 They were known for all the wrong fucking reasons.

 Merle and Daryl showed up to school covered in bruises, at least before Merle officially quit.

 Will had gotten himself arrested more times than he could count, his second house basically being the station.

 The beloved Dixon mother burnt to her death and took with her the shitty house the kids called “home".

 The uh, can we call it a family?, screamt “We’re fucking dysfunctional, please help!”

 That’s right. You probably thought this would start in a… smoother way. Well I hate to break it to you, but this story is everything but smooth.

 Yeah, little Daryl was abused. And not just “abused”. He was also a piece of shit.

 A real pain in the ass.

 Instead of cowering every time someone shouted or raised their hand, he actually fought back. Some people would have thought it was brave or strong, but he was just stupid. Plain idiot.

 It was just like the bruises on his face and body weren’t enough, and he wanted more. I don’t even know what he was hoping to get out of it. Maybe he was praying someone would notice and grab their shoulders, demanding to know what was wrong and how could they help. A freaking shame he didn’t realize that people did notice, they just didn’t give a shit. No one was dumb enough to risk anything for a Dixon. I myself thought I was too smart for that.

 But okay, I was twelve and I was sweet. Like really fucking sweet. I had this loving blue eyes and angelic smile, straight A’s! My Mother was so proud of me, and so was Daddy. I was just the perfect child.

 I was eating lunch with all the other kid when I first talked to Daryl, alone. We weren’t on the same class but my dad was the sheriff so I already knew his face from the station. I had to say it looked a little better when it wasn’t fucking busted.

 He had the most captivating eyes, green as an emerald. Besides that, he only had a few more characteristics worth mentioning. The rest was normal as shit, just average.

 His nose had been broken several times, by the look of it. It was ugly. And gross. His lips were always chapped, in the same pink tonality. And oh god, did he smell. The kid fucking reeked.

 I actually remember mentioning it one time, when he passed me and Shane on the lockers. He was quite pissed but letting him punch me was honestly wonderful. Not be masochist or anything.

 Anyways, one punch and several angry glances later I actually came up and talked to him.

 

_I sit in front of this little kid. He looks, sad in a pathetic way. He wasn’t even eating anything, just fucking sat there in silence._

_I seem to have interrupted his thoughts._

_-You just gonna stand there? Well? -He looks and sounds annoyed. I pretend not to notice._

_-Actually I was wondering. When’s the last time you ate a thing?_

_-Get lost. -He huffs. -Lookin’ for a fight? I’m not in the mood for this. -I stop him before he could get his bag and leave._

_-Eat something. -I put my own plate in front of him. It tastes like dog crap anyways, I ain’t telling him that though._

_-Why would I do that? -The defiance on his voice is hard to ignore._

_-Passing out in middle of class would be super lame, dude. -I get up. -Just think ‘bout it._

_I quickly left the lunch area but I swear that in the corner of my eye I could see Daryl taking a bite off my sandwich._

 Pretty sweet right? Maybe if I hadn’t given him my meal this would have never happened. Or maybe this was god’s plan all along.

 I’m not sure why I did that.

 Sure, I did pity him, but I didn’t have to give him my fucking sandwich. It was naive of me, but again, if I didn’t give him something to eat no one would have. I guess I can be a nice person, and not just a perfect kid.

 Only thing I know is that the very next day, as I was walking down the hall little redneck here got the balls to come up to me and whisper a shy “thank you” before turning around and going away, getting lost in the usual crowd.

 You should have seen him! Sounded like a fucking pussy.

 I can mock him all I want but it was in that moment I realized.

 This son of a bitch isn’t like the others around here.

 Like seriously, I know lunch is kind of an important deal but he swallowed up his pride and thanked the best friend of his bully. What a man.

 I probably forgot to mention Shane. Shit.

 When I say bully I don’t mean Shane used to beat the fuck out of him. Daryl already had his dad playing that role.

 Nah I mean the two kids hated each other, with a passion. God that sounds gay but it’s true. If Daryl saw Shane on front of him it was hard to get them separated, and so forth. They were like two cats who couldn’t get along, no matter how hard their owner tried. It was like a little Fight Club in high school. Except the underground club is usually just a crowded hallway or a classroom. Worst case I can think of was the principal’s office.

 That day was fun.

 ...Fuck.

 The smell is starting to give me a headache. I’m fucking nauseous, not because of what I just did, but because it looks like someone ate shit and threw up right after. Have you ever had the bad luck of smelling rotten meat? Now add rotten eggs to it. It’s a heavy and… sort of cold smell. It’s sickening. My fellow taxidermists know what’s up.

 Anyways, the shock is gone, I’ve weirdly accepted it. I should get going though, sun’s about to rise in some hours and it would be a shame if the odor wasn’t gone by the time the hotel staff patrols the halls.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leaving a comment doesn't hurt anyone, in fact it makes my day, so drop 'em!


End file.
